


A Hope County Christmas

by heartofsnark



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Bliss (Far Cry), Christmas, Christmas Party, Drinking, Faith washes her but doesn't do anything beyond washing, Jacob has a pet judge wolf cause fuck you, John has a cat cause he's that bitch, Kidnapping, Multi, Non-Consensual Touching, Play Fighting, Polyseed (Far Cry), Ship tease between Eli and my deputy, but it's not inherently sexual, drugged female deputy, it's the seeds man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:22:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21989467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartofsnark/pseuds/heartofsnark
Summary: It’s Christmas time in Hope County and as one might suspect, it can be hard to find any Christmas spirit to spare with Eden’s Gate waging their holy war. Junior Deputy Dahlia Hale fully suspects this holiday will be spent just as every last day has been spent since they tried to arrest Joseph Seed. But, between the Rye’s incurable optimism and the Seed’s...fascination with her, she can’t say she expected this.
Relationships: Female Deputy | Judge/Faith Seed, Female Deputy | Judge/Jacob Seed, Female Deputy | Judge/John Seed, Female Deputy | Judge/Joseph Seed, Original Female deputy and polyseed
Comments: 12
Kudos: 92





	1. The Resistance

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, this is late for Christmas and yes, that means the second part is gonna really fucking late for Christmas. But in my defense, I didn’t get the idea and started writing it until the 26th. It was originally suppose to be just one part, but it got real long and I lost some steam in the second part, so it’s gonna take me longer. So, have this and I’ll post the second part....maybe before 2020. I’ve been talking about my Deputy a lot over on my personal tumblr, morbidchild182 but this is the first writing I’ve posted with her. I’m still developing her and working on how I write the characters, so.

A harsh cough echoes in Dahlia’s chest, a hacking noise and her lungs constrict. This is her first winter in Montana and it’s absolutely kicking her ass. Eden’s Gate could only hope of making her feel this shitty. Though, to her surprise the peggies haven’t been particularly active lately.

The Seed brothers are originally from Georgia, the deep south just like her, and she wonders if they’re as badly impacted by the cold as she is. Her leather jacket, uniform shirt and tee shirt under it are doing very little to keep out the chill as she rides her motorcycle through the Holland Valley wilderness. Nick and Kim called her over the radio asking her to head over. She’s hoping everything is alright, she’s not sure how much help she’ll be when she can barely feel her limbs.

She parks her motorcycle by the porch, pulling off her helmet and cringing as the cold air hits her face. There are little twinkling Christmas lights across their porch and the roof, even a few strings around the hangar. They’re beautiful, but a part of her worries about it just drawing in angels.

Dahlia rubs her hands together, trying desperate to regain some heat. Her red and irritated nose suddenly feels wet, is her nose running on top of everything? She goes to rub it away, but there’s a fleck of ice clinging to fingers. Something wet pats against her head, is it raining? She looks up towards the sky. Soft white flakes are drifting through the sky.

Snow.

It’s snowing. She’s only seen snow in movies and TV shows, the white puffy flakes touch her cheeks. Ideas of catching snowflakes on her tongue or having snowball fights flicker through her brain, but she disregards it immediately knowing she doesn’t have the time for horseplay.

“Something interesting up there, dep?”

“Huh,” she startles for a minute, seeing Nick standing on the porch and staring up at the sky, “no, sorry, I just, never seen snow before.”

“What, seriously?”

“Louisiana doesn’t get a lot of snow, seen a few hurricanes though.”

“Shit man, that’s just depressing.”

“As is most of my life.”

“Well, come on in.”

“Sure, but, uh, Nick, do you think the lights are a good idea? Might draw-“

Her voice catches in her throat as she steps into the Rye home, it looks like a Christmas wonderland. A giant ornate tree, Christmas music playing on the radio. A tall tree that the top of which nearly scrapes the ceiling, though it’s bare for some reason. Friendly faces all around; Jerome, Mary May, Grace, Sharky, Hurk, Adelaide, Xander, and Jess in a corner hiding away with Cheeseburger nestled at her side. Peaches is getting ear scratches from Sharky. Everyone except Jess is wearing obnoxiously colored Christmas sweaters.

“Those peggies have taken so much from us, I’ll be damned if they’re taking Christmas too,” Nick declares and she can’t help but smile at his determination.

A few barks ring out and before Dahlia knows it two dog paws have landed on her waist, Boomer demanding her attention. He’s almost as bad as John.

“Hey, boy,” she coos scratching behind his ears and laughing as he gives her a few kisses.

“Deputy,” Kim makes her way over, Boomer moving so she can give Dahlia a big hug, “I’m so happy you could make it out here, I know you’re busy with…everything. It means a lot.”

“Uh, what’s exactly going on, I thought you guys needed my help with something?”

“It’s a trap, Rook,” Jess calls out from her corner and Kim rolls her eyes.

“It’s a holiday party, we have one every year and we aren’t letting the peggies ruin it, here.” Kim hands over a white fluffy sweater, the less ugly of any of the ones she’s seen on her friends. When she unfolds it, she sees a little polar bear face with a sprig of mistletoe by its ear.

“Uh…”

“It’s Christmas, everyone has to wear a Christmas sweater.”

“Except Jess, she threatened to bite me,” Nick says, shooting a slightly fearful look towards the woman.

“I mean, I’d be happy to bite you too, hon,” Adelaide calls out with a flirtatious wink, Kim rolling her eyes as Nick visibly cringes.

“Please, dep, just put on the sweater.”

Dahlia shrugs her shoulders, if her wearing a damn sweater will make them even a little bit happier, it’s more than worth it. The couple has endured enough bullshit with Eden’s Gate, the least she can do is wear a damn sweater. She pulls off her leather jacket and uniform shirt.

“Woo, take it off!” Sharky yells out, grinning like a dumbass and Dahlia’s face flushes red, shooting her favorite pyromaniac a death glare before she tugs the sweater on over her tee.

It’s large, white, fluffy, and feels completely out of place on her. She feels like she looks odd without an outfit that’s at least ninety percent black.

“I can’t stay long,” Dahlia warns as she ties her hair back in a stubby ponytail.

“The lord does permit days of rest, Deputy.”

“Good for him, but I got shit to do,” She tells Jerome as she meanders towards a place to sit, eventually settling somewhere between Sharky and Jess, back tight against a wall and knees pulled up to her chest.

“You deserve a day to take it easy, here,” Kim hands her a mug of eggnog, an odd smell coming off it. It’s probably fine. She takes a drink and the burn of rum hits her, she nearly sputters. Kim laughing at her.

“Can’t handle your booze, Rook?” Grace asks, raising an eyebrow at her.

“Firstly, I legally can’t drink, secondly this is barely fuckin’ eggnog at this point.”

“Eh, who’s gonna arrest you, you?”

“You’re old enough to risk your ass for us, you’re old enough to drink,” Mary May says, taking a swig of her own drink.

Dahlia shrugs, she did drink a little when she was a minor, but stopped when she became a cop. Based on principle alone. But, fuck she’s never actually liked the taste. She’s not convinced anyone really does. At that same time, Nick steps into the room a Santa hat tilted on his head, where he’s stretched over his cap. In his arms are movies, games, and more booze.

“Ol’ Saint Nick!” Sharky yells out and a chorus of groans follow his stupid joke.

“Figure, we’ll watch a movie, get everyone in the spirit, before we play some games.”

“You mean get everyone drunk,” Kim teases, the only one not drinking the spiked eggnog.

“Same thing.” Nick grins and shrugs as he puts some Christmas movie in, Boomer lays against Dahlia’s side as the bullshit movie starts to play.

“What the hell is that woman doing?” An extra looks directly at the camera.

“Who the fuck talks like that?” The acting is awful.

“Oh god, child actors.” The child acting is worse.

“I’m like, pretty sure that’s a federal offense.” You can’t just look through someone’s mail.

“Eh, who hasn’t committed a federal offense.”

“Most people Sharky, most people.”

“Wait that’s the plot, getting her uncle a girlfriend, oh my god.” The plot is stupid

“Ooh, I wouldn’t mind him stuffing my stocking.” The main actor is easy on the eyes.

“Addie, no.”

“Wait, why the hell did he say it was done, if he hadn’t started cookin’ it yet?”

“Fantastic question.”

“What? What? What?!” This makes no sense.

“Holy shit, Adelaide in five years,” Dahlia blurts out when a perverted granny shows up.

“Five years!? How old do you think I am, Rook?!”

“No comment.”

“You don’t look a day over thirty.”

“She’s your aunt, Sharky.”

“Shut it.”

“Is she an elf? Oh my god, is she a fuckin’ elf?”

“Did she just realize she looks like she dressed in the dark?”

“She took her glasses off, so she’s no longer ugly, ‘cause…y’know.”

“The audio is so bad, holy shit, what are they even saying.”

“That looks awful.”

They’re about halfway through the movie, everyone finding every chance to chime in some comment about the crap on screen. She’s drained two mugs of the spiked eggnog, her cheeks red from booze and laughing. Dahlia’s lost count of how many cookies she’s crammed into her mouth.

The movie finishes and she no longer feel like she’s in any state to take on a cult. Not drunk, but tipsy as all hell. Judging by the flushed cheeks around her, no one is any better off except Kim who once credits are rolling suggest making ornaments and decorating the tree.

Trusting drunk dumbasses to decorate the tree, brilliant.

It’s a disaster. Of course, it is.

Jerome makes some decent angel ones, but the religious aesthetic of anything has been ruined for everyone lately. Mary May’s Santa is holding a beer. Jess’s just has ‘Fuck Off’ scribbled across it. Xander and Adelaide keep trying to have sex puns about crafts, too drunk for any of them to be subtle. Grace’s gun ornament is surprisingly well done, but not particularly Christmas-y. Nick’s attempt to make a plane looks like a lumpy disaster. Hurk and Sharky keep trying to put a dick and or flames on everything. At some point someone throws glitter.

It was her.

Sharky tried to draw a dick on her star, so she started throwing glitter at his dumb face. Now there’s glitter everywhere, the Rye’s home will never be free of it. Also, there’s gold glitter glue on her hands and hair where she tried to push it back, because tools are for fools.

Then her radio crackles to life, ah fuck, she tries to rub the worse of the glue off onto her jeans before grabbing it.

“Hey,” she manages to slur even the shortest word and everyone her is snickering.

“Deputy, it’s Eli from the Whitetails.”

“I don’t know any other Eli, you don’t have to clarify, Mountain Man.”

“Right, uh, sorry. Heard about the Rye’s party, knew you were over that way. I, uh, wanted to make sure you weren’t running yourself ragged.”

“Wanted to check in on his girlfriend,” Wheaty teases in the background and Dahlia’s face flushes brighter red, not from the booze. Everyone around her starts to laugh

“Don’t you have something else to do?” Eli retorts and she can practically hear the embarrassment in his voice.

“Don’t worry, Eli, I’m at the Rye’s being supplied with way too much booze.”

“That’s good, well not good that you’re getting drunk, not that I care if you get drunk, I don’t think. I just mean it’s good you’re with friends and y’know what, I’ll stop talking.” 

She can’t help but laugh, he hasn’t been this awkward with her since he talked about shaving his beard and wondering if it made him look crazy.

“Hey, maybe next time I’m in that area, we can see if we can convince Chad to make some Christmas grub and have a little celebration at the Wolf’s Den?”

Why did she make that offer, she didn’t even want one celebration, why is she doing this? It’s so impractical, why the fuck would Eli want that? She pushes hair back out of her face, she’s so stupid.

“That sounds nice.”

“It does? It does. Cool.”

“Well, uh, Merry Christmas, Rook.”

“Merry Christmas, Eli.”

The radio call ends, and Dahlia lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, all eyes are on her. Some confused and others smirking at the little exchange.

“Never knew you liked ‘em older, deputy.”

“Fuck off.”

“You really shouldn’t have done that to your hair either,” Jess tells her, smirking. Her bangs fall back in her face and Dahlia sees the gold glitter glue now clinging to the dark locks.

“God damn it.”

“Looks like you were too distracted drooling over your mountain man,” Jess mocks Dahlia with an overly sappy voice. Dahlia smirks back, revenge already in her mind.

“Aww,” she cups Jess’s cheeks in her two-glitter glue covered hands, “that was so cute of you.” Dahlia smears it down Jess’s cheeks leaving a mess.

Jess’s green eyes narrow, a weaker woman might freak out at the anger shown in them. But, Dahlia knows too well that there’s a hint of mischief there, it’s all in good fun. The Junior Deputy pulls her hands away from the Survivalist’s face.

“No killing in the house,” Kim warns and that’s all that’s said before Jess is launching over the table to try to grab Dahlia who’s already dropped down and jolted under it, the two switching sides before the deputy breaks into a run.

Their movements are clumsier and slower than usual, booze slowing them down. Dahlia takes the stairs two at a time, giggling as she tries to evade her friend. Jess’s hands nearly latch onto her sweater and Dahlia promptly jumps over the stair banister, boots hitting the floor with a heavy thud.

“No breaking your ankles in the house!”

“Sorry, Kim, oh god!”

Jess is on Dahlia’s back, bringing her down to the ground and laughing as the deputy collapses under her weight. She’s trying to put her in a headlock, as Dahlia attempts to wrestle out of it. The entire party laughing at their horseplay. She swears she hear Sharky or Hurk saying something about needing a mud pit, but she’s too focused on play wrestling to yell at the perverts.

Her radio crackles again and through the struggling Dahlia manages to answer it.

“Rook, heard the Rye’s invited you over for Christmas,” Whitehorse’s voice comes through.

“That they did,” she struggles to respond as she’s using one hand to fend off Jess.

“Hey, sheriff!”

“He can’t see you waving Nick.”

Dahlia cracks, a fatal mistake as Jess uses it to get the headlock.

“Good, I was worried about you, Rook, thought you’d be running around while everyone else took the day off. I know shit’s tough right now but taking time to celebrate the little stuff is what’s gonna keep you going. Merry Christmas.”

“You guys doing anything special at the jail?” She asks as she tries to squirm away, finally just giving up and trying to stand up with Jess on her back and arms around her neck. It’s a piss poor excuse for a piggyback ride, but whatever.

“Virgil’s trying to get someone to cut down a tree, Tracey ain’t having any of it.”

“I can do that.”

“You’re not chopping down a Christmas tree, Rook, Jesus Christ,” Tracey grumbles in the background.

“You’ve already done more than enough, hell, if it wasn’t for you…well there are a lot of people who wouldn’t be here to see Christmas this year. Enjoy your party.”

“Yeah…Merry Christmas.”

Dahlia feels her eyes sting, she doesn’t expect praise or even acknowledgment of the things she’s done. It still seems so foreign, the idea that she’s actually saved people. That people are here, alive and safe, because of her actions. She can never see herself as a hero, but to some people she truly is.

Jess’s arms on her loosen, before the woman just hops right off of her. A soft smile replacing the mischievous little grin. She squeezes Dahlia’s shoulder, a silent understanding that Jess is one of those people. If not for Dahlia, she’d be spending this Christmas in a cage, if she was lucky. But, now she’s spending it in a rare moment of joy and peace.

“Come on, we gotta decorate the tree..”

“Yeah, sounds good.”

Jess and Dahlia rejoin the party, feral energy out of their system for the time being. The tree looks like a mess. Everyone’s ornament a disaster and the whole thing looking like an incomprehensible disaster. Nothing goes together. None of it makes sense, but it has…character. Dahlia goes to hang her own bad star ornament after hanging the last bit of tinsel. But, it’s nowhere to be found.

“Here,” Kim hands it to her, but the sloppily coated star no longer has a string, instead on a little cap to be used as the tree topper. It’s an extremely sweet gesture, but…

“I can’t reach.” Dahlia makes a show of trying to stretch her hand up to touch the top of the tree, only to come up embarrassingly short.

“Don’t worry, I gotcha bromigo,” Hurk declares before hefting Dahlia up onto his shoulders, she can’t help but laugh, but places her messy star at the top of the tree. Hurk putting her back down with ease.

“It’s certainly…different.”

“It always an adventure to see how it turns out every year.”

“I’m sure it.”

Another crackle from her radio.

“Who’s calling now?” Nick asks, taking another drink of eggnog.

“Eh, probably just Dutch checking in,” Dahlia answers it, “don’t worry, I’m at the party and I’m taking a break for Christmas.”

“That’s wonderful to know, dep-yoo-tee,” John’s voice sobers her, like a bucket of ice water’s splashed in her face, the entire party going silent as he drags out each syllable.

“The fuck do you want?”

“Easy now, Little Miss Wrath, I haven’t even done anything and you’re already foaming at the mouth.”

“Yet, you haven’t done anything, yet.”

“Someone who doesn’t believe in prophets, claiming to know the future, how ironic.”

“Get to the point, Johnny Boy.”

“I do hope, you’ll be more patient once you fully join our family.”

“You got five more seconds before I hang up and get back to drinking. One, two,-”

“While we don’t celebrate Christmas quite the same as sinners do, the holidays still marks an important time of togetherness.”

“Good for you…Can I go now?”

“Me, my brothers and sister like to spend this time of year together, as a family.”

“I’m gonna blow my brains out from boredom, Johnny.”

“A family dinner requires the whole family, dep-yoo-tee, even the members who’ve yet to accept their role.”

“Are…are you threatening to kidnap me for Christmas dinner?!”

“Depends, will you come of your own volition?”

“Fuck no.”

“Then, I’m afraid you leave me no choice. I’ll be seeing you shortly, dear.”


	2. Seed Family Dinner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I managed to get the second chapter done in a reasonable amount of time, kinda, yay! Maybe I shouldn't wait until the day after Christmas to start writing a Christmas fic. Anyway, I'm really taken aback at how much love the first chapter got. I hope you all love this weird Yandere Seed family dinner thing. I don't even know what this is.

The radio cuts out and Dahlia groans, rage and wrath bubbling in her veins. She can’t have one normal fucking day.

“That John Seed, I swear to god, he can’t take a fuckin’ hint.” Nick is already pissed, just the mention of John Seed does that to him.

“Could anyone else hear John stroking it, or was that just me?” Sharky looks around for confirmation.

Dahlia is already up, her movements and body language drawn tight as she yanks the sweater off over her head, grabbing her uniform shirt and jacket that are strewn on a chair.

“Where are you going?” Kim asks, face twisted up with worry, eyes soft.

“It’s John, if he wants to me, he’s gonna get me. I stay here and your place is gonna be swimming with peggies before you know it. Just ‘cause the Seed got some sick fascination with me, doesn’t mean I gotta ruin everyone else’s night.”

“Fuckin’ let ‘em come, we’ll blow ‘em to smithereens.”

“All they need is us all drunk and vulnerable, none of us are in any state to fight,” Dahlia says with a sigh, handing the sweater back towards Kim.

“Keep it, you can wear it again next year.” That little notion of hope, of a future with more Christmas parties makes Dahlia smile.

“Thanks.”

“But…can you ride your bike, right now? You’re not exactly sober either.”

“Doesn’t matter if I ride or walk it, as long as I get some distance between here and me. I’ll be fine, you don’t hear from me in three days, you all know what to do.”

She gives her friends a half-hearted wave, trying not to let the anger and stress show through. One day, all she wanted, one fucking day.

The cold air hits her flushed face and she sighs, tucking the sweater into the trunk space under her motorcycle seat. She lights a cigarette both for warmth and stress relief as she pushes her bike away from the Rye home. If she were sober and more energetic, she’d be crafting how to escape his capture team. John’s are always the easiest to avoid. Once she managed to evade them three time, liberating a cult outpost and helping a defected peggie before they nabbed her. John was fuming and she was grinning. But, she’s not sober and there’s not much to do.

She’s a considerable distance away, surrounded by woods. Engines rev, his capture party getting close. Dahlia sighs, at least the Rye’s will have a decent party without peggies ruining the damn thing. A white truck with the familiar cross designs pulls up. She recognizes the cultists in the front seat, a face constantly showing up when she’s kidnapped.

“Hey, Teddy,” she greets him.

“My name is Theodore.”

“Hey Teddy.”

“I’ll never understand what the father sees in you.”

“You and me both, bud.”

“You’re not running today?”

“I’m drunk man.”

“Of course, you are.” He aims the gun, loaded with bliss bullets, at her.

“Do we really need the bullets today? I’m not even running!?”

“Shooting you is the most fun I have anymore, so yes, we need the bullets.”

“Seriously, I-OW!” The bliss coated bullet sinks into the meat of her thigh

Within seconds her vision starts to swim, colors distorting and her limbs growing heavy before she falls back on the ground. Theodore hovering over her.

“Dickhead,” she slurs out before the world goes black.

Dahlia blinks a few times as she slowly comes back in consciousness. There’s still a haze to her brain, but she feels more sober than she did before she was kidnapped. A soft familiar humming is drifting through the room, the same one that echoes through the Henbane. She tries to get up out of bed, but can’t hardly move her body. No ties or restraints, her limbs just to heavy to move despite her head feeling clear. The cult is always fucking around with new strands of bliss, she’s no longer surprised at the things it can manage to do to her.

Slender hands wrap around Dahlia’s wrists and she’s gently tugged up into a sitting position, she’s on a bed. Her legs now over the edge of it, Faith smiling and staring into her eyes.

“Hello, deputy.”

“Ugh.”

“It’s our first Christmas together, aren’t you excited?”

“Ugh.”

“I know, you’re still clinging to your sins, but don’t worry, we’ll show you the path. With love and patience.”

“And kidnapping.” That earns Dahlia a stern look, like she’s a toddler who just stole a cookie before dinner.

“You still don’t understand and that’s okay, none of us are giving up on you. Now, you need to get washed up for dinner,” she fiddles with a glitter glue clump in Dahlia’s hair and lets out her soft little melodic giggle, “as pretty as this is, this is an important day, alright.”

Faith yanks Dahlia forward and off the bed, bliss heavy limbs making the deputy just fall against her. Her fingers knot in the white fabric of Faith’s dress, all her weight pressed against the taller woman. The youngest Seed sibling just giggles and pets Dahlia’s hair before leading her forward on shaky legs.

There’s a simple clean bathroom, steam rising up from the bathtub filled with water. Faith softly hums as she leaves Dahlia leaning against the sink for support, testing the temperature of the water. The soft steam twirling in the air around her face. She truly is beautiful, despite everything, Dahlia can recognize that the Seeds are attractive. Crazy assholes, but attractive ones.

Faith returns to Dahlia, their six-inch or so height difference feels like so much more when Faith looks down at her, pale hands pushing under her leather jacket. The deputy doesn’t have the strength to fight it, jacket hitting the ground. Then Faith is doing the same with the uniform shit, a noticeable twinge of anger in her expression when she sees the Hope County Cougars button next to Dahlia’s badge. Her hands skim slowly and teasing as she works through each layer, getting closer and closer to Dahlia’s skin.

The herald pulls Dahlia’s shirt up over her head. No bra and her chest is completely exposed. Green eyes looking over her breasts and Dahlia braces herself, expecting greedy touches and groping. Embarrassed by the way warmth builds in her center with anticipation. But instead, Faith simply hums and starts to undo Dahlia’s jeans. In moments she’s stripped completely naked, exposed in the bright light of the bathroom. No way to hide herself.

Faith gently leads Dahlia towards the bathtub, helping her into the hot water. She sits down and tries to pull her knees to her chest, but finds her limbs still not responding. Despite the situation, she finds herself relaxing into the water. The heat a welcome relief from the chill outside.

Things stay surprisingly innocent. Not that Dahlia wants it to not be innocent. But Faith’s touch never seem to deviate beyond softly washing her. Humming as she scrubs soap into the deputy’s skin, washing away the dirt and crafting mess. Sudsy hands exploring Dahlia’s legs, thighs, stomach, arms, and back. Constantly nearing her more sensitive spots, but never touching them.

She’s not proud of the whine she lets out as Faith washes her back, somewhere between cleaning and massaging. Faith shampoos and conditions her hair, the sensation of fingers working over her scalp makes her let out a soft sigh. Once she’s cleaned, Faith gently helps her stand back up.

A soft white towel rubbed and fluffed over her body, all still completely innocent. Faith seeming to find some contentment in just babying Dahlia, which would be great if not for the cult stuff.

“You keep looking at me like you’re expecting something, silly,” Faith voice teases by Dahlia’s ear, breath ghosting over the wet skin. Heat flushes up Dahlia’s cheeks.

“Ugh.”

Faith only giggles before she finishes drying Dahlia off, maybe it’s the heat of the bath or just the drug running its course, but she’s starting to regain a bit more control over her limbs. She can curl and move her tingling fingers now, which is something.

“The Father let me pick out the dress for you to wear tonight, it’s going to look so pretty on you.”

“Ugh!”

Dahlia expects something like Faith’s favorite dress, delicate modest white lace and flowers. But, while it’s white and has some lace touches, it’s less modest. Thin little straps instead of long sleeves, the deep neckline scalloped in a way that shows little peeks of skin between her breasts, and a band of lace beneath her chest that her skin shows through. The entire dress reaching the middle of her thighs. She’s thankful the building they’re in seems to be well heated.

Faith smiles wide at Dahlia in the dress, reaching for a white bliss flower that’s been place in a vase near the sink. She tucks it back behind Dahlia’s ear, the fragrance tickling the deputy’s nose.

“Absolutely gorgeous.”

“I miss my pants.”

“C’mon now,,” Faith pulls her wrists out and Dahlia expects to just be lead again, but instead she grabs rope from under the sink and binds the deputy’s hands together, “just in case it wears off, can’t have you running off in the middle of dinner, now can we?”

“Yeah…that’d just be a shame.”

Dahlia is dragged out to what looks like a dining room, the table has a cloth strewn across it and some sort of centerpiece but that’s all. Faith brings her to one of the chairs and ties her ankle to the legs of it when she sits down.

“Be back in just a moment,” Faith murmurs and presses a kiss to the top of Dahlia’s head before stepping out.

There’s the soft sound of clattering and messing around in the kitchen. Her limbs are starting to tingle, feeling slowly coming back. She starts trying to rock back and forth in her chair, if she can somehow break the chair she can manage to get away. Dahlia tries bouncing and jostling herself, the chair starts to tilt back and she’s hopeful it will break under her when she falls back.

It doesn’t.

She’s just on the floor now.

And she’s pretty sure the dress has fallen in a way that’s showing more of her than she wants shown.

Dahlia cranes her head to the side; there’s a large stone fireplace and her breath catches in her throat at what’s in front of it. A Judge Wolf, it’s eyes now trained on her. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no.

It’s a trap, it’s all been a fucking trap just to leave with a fucking wolf to get teared apart. The large lumbering wolf stalks towards her and every muscle in her body tightens. She screams as it presses a wet nose against her throat, sniffing at her, no doubt preparing to rip it out.

“You just had to bring that mongrel here,” John’s voice rings out, “shoo, shoo.”

He shoos off the Judge Wolf like it’s a puppy and it listens, John then grabbing the back of her chair and placing it upright.

That tingling of movement coming back to her fingers has started to shoot up to her forearms, she can clench and tense the muscles there. Her toes have followed suit as well, she can now wiggle them freely.

“You’re allowed your damn cat,” Jacob grumbles, the absolute mountain of a man looks borderline ridiculous as he sets food out on the table. The gesture so domestic and tame for the sadistic soldier.

“Yes, but this is my home, Chanel lives here. Judge does not.”

“I don’t know which is worse. Naming your cat Chanel or naming a Judge Wolf, Judge.”

“The hell else am I supposed to call ‘em.”

“Chanel is a perfectly respectable name.”

“Two Seeds pissed off in one sentence, new record!”

“No fighting, this is a time of togetherness brothers,” Joseph chides as he walks in, helping place food on the table with Jacob.

“Yes, Joseph,” John immediately backs down and ducks his head in shame. Meanwhile Jacob just shrugs, unfussed.

Dahlia focuses on watching Judge, the Judge Wolf, though she doesn’t even bother to name any animals she befriends, so really who is she to well, judge. The wolf is bigger than most of them, but decidedly better behaved. All of them are trained, but the ones she’s encountered out in the Whitetails have been more feral, would have attacked her on sight. But this one, Jacob’s personal Judge Wolf seems to be more restrained, but she knows too well that it would likely take one cue for them to be ripping her apart.

“Hey, Judgey, you wanna chew through these ropes for me?” She waves her wrists before the animal; they make a snorting sound before laying back down in front of the fire. She’s slowly getting more and more mobility back.

“Really thought he’d help you?” Jacob looks at her like she’s stupid, humorless dickhead.

“Just like his owner, fuckin’ asshole.”

Jacob flicks the back of her ear, making her yelp, no doubt if it wasn’t for Joseph, he’d be doing a lot worse to her. Hell, if it wasn’t for Joseph’s insistence that she’s their soulmate…or something like that, Jacob would have probably killed her by now.

“Jacob,” Joseph says in a low, stern tone.

“What?” A shit eating grin pulls at his lips, the gesture boyish and almost cute despite who’s doing it. It’s rare that Jacob shows many signs of enjoying, well, anything. But, the rare times she’s seen all the Seeds in one place, he seems infinitely more at peace and happy.

Joseph just shakes his head, his own gentle smile on his face, choosing not to scold his older brother any further.

Faith sits down on one side of Dahlia, John on the other, Joseph across from her, and Jacob beside him. Joseph’s intense blue gaze is already on her and she stares down at the plate that’s been place in front of her. She hates meeting his eyes, it’s weird.

“We’re so happy to have you here, Deputy Hale.”

The Seeds despite everything, still don’t know her first name, only knowing her last name thanks to their brief encounters prior to the reaping. Most of them settle for calling her deputy or some asinine nickname, Joseph is the only one who ever uses her last name and it always feels so strange. It’s never said with derision or vitriol the same way Deputy is constantly being growled or barked out at her over her radio. There’s always a warmth, a familiarity, that feels so out of place given everything that’s occurred. It makes her happy and uncomfortable all at once, so she reacts the best way she knows how.

“I’m very unhappy to be here.”

“It’s important to celebrate with your family,” John says, his hand coming down to rest on her thigh, just beneath the dress. His touch is warm, too warm, her stomach clenches, her heart flips, and her skin crawls. A mess of disgust and desire, she doesn’t want to deal with.

“I already was, at the Rye’s house, when you so rudely interrupted.” It’s the truth, the resistance becoming her family over the past several months. But her intention isn’t a declaration of her familial love for them, she wants to piss off John. They want to drag her into this fucked up family dinner, she’s going to do her damnedest to ruin it.

John’s hand squeezes tight, fingers sinking into the flesh of her thigh and she sees his jaw clench. Anger boiling up in his bright blue eyes, he leans in closer, nose nearly touching her own.

“Those sinners are not your family; we’re your family and you will come to accept that, sooner or later.”

“If I was a member of your family, I’d blow my brains out.” 

“John, this is not the time to indulge in your sins,” Joseph warns him, and John lets go of her thigh, the skin still warm where his touch lingered.

“I’m sorry, Joseph.”

“The deputy will come to see the truth in time, we must guide her with love and patience.”

“Love and patience,” she parrots back in a mocking tone, Joseph gaze is stern and disappointed, she grins. One of these days she’s going to wear through his patience and actually piss him off.

“Holidays such as Christmas has become corrupted and commercialized by the modern world.”

Joseph starts to speak as he serves food and she can’t help but groan, waiting for another spiel about how technology is the devil and Thomas Edison was a witch. Granted he was an asshole idea thief. 

“As a society, we’ve strayed from the real purpose of celebration, focusing on consumption. My family is one of the few, who truly understand that these times are meant to appreciate each other, to celebrate that the Lord has seen fit for us to let us share these moments with one another, after years of spending them apart.”

Dahlia bites her lip, staring at the plate that being piled high with food. She read the Book of Joseph, an attempt to better know her enemy. But sadly, with knowledge came empathy. She knows what the Seeds have been through, how their family was torn apart. As fucked up messes as they are, she can understand that the holidays and time they spend together would feel so much more important to them.

A part of her feels bad, this is important for them. And for the most part, they genuinely believe in the shit coming out of their mouths, she thinks. The only one not convinced she’s meant to be with them, part of their family, or whatever is Jacob. But he wants Joseph and John to be happy, which sadly means encouraging this. So, to them this is genuinely an attempt to gather the whole family. Like parents trying to get their moody teenager to have Christmas dinner with them.

However, they still kidnapped her and have hurt countless people.

Once food is on everyone’s plates, Joseph takes his seat again, she’s still avoiding his intense stare.

“Let us say grace.” He joins hands with Faith and Jacob, Jacob and John join hands as well. Leaving a tied-up Dahlia as the kink in the chain. She raises an eyebrow.

“I mean, I can’t be blamed for this.” Though, god knows they try to blame her for everything else.

John settles for wrapping his hand around her wrist and Faith follows suit on the other side. The Seed family bows their head for prayer and Dahlia stares down at her food.

She’s reminded of days sat at the table, her stepfather thanking god for the meal while she was begging any god listening to give him a heart attack. Though, somehow, she has decidedly less anger and vitriol towards the Seeds. Her thoughts more centered around getting them in a facility with good mental health resources.

Joseph’s words drift in one ear and out the other. Being nice enough to not interrupt doesn’t mean she’s willing to pay attention. Its thanks, for letting him have this blessed day after enduring so many trials, or something to that effect. She’s busy pulling and tugging one of her ankles, slowly loosening the ropes around that ankle.

“Amen.”

“Amen.”

“Happy to see there’s no mac n’ cheese, heard how well that went last time…”

“That mac n’ cheese was perfect, Nick is just dramatic,” John blusters, face flushing red and she can’t help but laugh, just as she’s slipping one foot from her binds. Thankful she was tucked in close enough to the table that neither of the youngest Seeds can peer down to see her legs.

“Guess I know who’s to blame for that one.”

“We usually don’t allow John in the kitchen,” Joseph admits, a soft teasing smile on his lips. No longer The Father, leader of Eden’s Gate, just an older brother teasing his baby brother.

“Be better off letting Judge cook for you,” Jacob comments, grinning at his flustered younger brother.

“I can cook when I want to!” John tries desperately to defend his cooking skills.

Dahlia’s laughter only gets stronger, belly aching. Despite his flustered attempts to defend his mac and cheese, John’s smiling. Jacob and Joseph chuckling while Faith is giggling. All during which Dahlia’s using her free foot to help work the ropes off of her other ankle, loosening them.

“Awwww, poor little Johnny can’t even make macaroni, so sad.”

“You know, dep-yoo-tee.” He tips her chin up with his fingers.

“Must you say it like that.” She slips her other ankle out and resists the urge to kick John, she’s not ready to escape, not yet, not with everyone around. It’d be too dangerous, probably.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think your taunting is just your way of showing you care.”

“Well thank god, even you’re not _that_ stupid.”

“John, stop hogging the deputy’s attention,” Faith says, and Dahlia can hear the pout in the older woman’s voice.

“I’m not hogging anything; I’m simply having a conversation with her.”

“You’re literally forcing her to look at you and no one else.”

John’s jaw clenches, he can’t really argue with that, now can he. The youngest brother of the Seeds reluctantly let’s go of her chin.

“Was that so hard?” Faith taunts her brother, playing with Dahlia’s hair.

The Junior deputy could probably escape right now. There are forks and knives available that can be weapons, she can’t out strength Jacob, but she can outrun him and he’s unlikely to trigger her brainwashing when the only people here for her to kill is his family.

But she doesn’t.

She decides, instead, to try to eat, since the food doesn’t seem to be killing anyone else and the smell is making her stomach growl. All she had at the Rye’s party was sweets and she’s not sure how long she was out for, so she might as well eat. That makes sense, right?

Besides, there will be better opportunities for escape, they’ll leave her alone at some point.

Her wrists are bound, and she finds herself struggling to managed to bring to fork to her mouth. But the hunk of turkey and stuffing just falls to the floor, Dahlia glaring at it.

Judge is there in a second, munching up her failure to feed herself.

“Jacob, get your mutt,” John says, trying to get Judge to leave, but he’s not listening this time.

“Leave Judge be, he’s my favorite living thing in this room,” Dahlia tells John watching the wolf finish up the table scraps, before placing his large fuzzy head on her thigh. Unnaturally bright silver eyes gazing up at her, she reaches down with her bound hands and gently scratches the rough fur behind its ear. To her surprise it doesn’t growl or pull away from the affection, instead leaning into it.

“The Judge Wolves are killing machines that run on pure instinct, not puppies for you to cuddle,” Jacob warns her, voice low and gravelly, but there’s a small grin on his lips.

“He sure isn’t turning down the ear scritches.”

“Here, deputy, it’d be easiest if I helped feed you,” Faith offers, scooping up food on a fork and holding it up delicately to Dahlia’s mouth. Her cheeks flush red, something about it just feeling ridiculous.

“I could probably, just.” Dahlia tries to take the fork from Faith’s hand, uncomfortable with the idea of being fed. Faith gently smacks away her hands.

“Don’t be silly, here.”

Dahlia reluctantly accepts the bite of food, it’s really good, she can help but smile as she swallows down the mouthful of perfectly cooked turkey and potatoes.

“Holy shit, that’s really good.”

“Language,” Joseph chides and she snorts out a laugh, his tone reminding her of Virgil.

“Don’t act so surprised,” Jacob grumbles, his mouth full of food, is he the one who cooked it?

“Ugh, your wolves have better manners than you,” John criticizes his older brother.

“Fuck off.”

“Language.” Joseph is smiling as he chides them and Dahlia hates that she is too, they’re just a family giving each other shit, enjoying each other’s company. Another time and place she’d be envious, wishing she had a family like them.

“Here, try this,” John says, offering her another forkful of food.

“I was feeding the deputy, John,” Faith grumbles when Dahlia’s attention is once again stolen away from the youngest brother, Dahlia happily accepting the food.

“I’m allowed to feed her as well, Faith.”

“Not when you’ve been stealing her attention this entire time, here, deputy.” Faith turns Dahlia’s face just as she swallows down the food, already shoveling more food into her mouth.

“Actually, you’d probably like this more.” She’s still chewing when John retorts and is shoving more food into her mouth.

This continues on and on, Faith and John tugging her attention back and forth, shoving food in her mouth. Judge licking up any bit that falls. Dahlia is struggling to choke down the inordinate amounts of food continuously being shoved in her face. It’s ridiculous and she finds herself laughing too, eventually leaving her a coughing and hacking mess when mingled with the food.

“You fucking choked her,” Jacob says, chuckling and pinching the bridge of his nose.

“See what you did, Faith.”

“I was attempting to take care of her, you were the one being greedy.”

“You’re like two little kids fighting over a toy,” Dahlia manages to say once she’s cleared her windpipe of stuffing.

“Don’t let John fool you, he’s not as young at heart or in reality as he’d like you to believe.” There’s a catty smile across Faith’s face, mischief in the glare she throws John’s way.

“Are you accusing me of being a liar? That’s rich, given your history, sister.”

“Jacob, why don’t you take Faith and John with you to start washing the dishes?” Joseph suggests, clearly trying to end the bickering before it escalates. Jacob groans and Dahlia realizes that yes, the meal is over, John and having still managed to feed themselves while fighting over feeding her.

“Come on, ya brats,” the oldest Seed tells them, as he starts to pick up dirty plates. Faith and John reluctantly follow suit.

“I am not a brat,” John attempts to defend himself a final time as the three of them take the dishes back to the kitchen to be washed. Leaving Dahlia and Joseph alone at the table, even Judge having left to follow the others.

Intense blue eyes, on her like always. She stares down at her lap, now would be a good time to make a break for it. Joseph isn’t all that physically intimidating to her, but she doesn’t do it. She doesn’t now why. But she doesn’t do that. A shift of movement catches her attention and she watches, ready to bolt if need be, as Joseph makes his way towards her.

“What are you?”

Joseph shifts her chair to the side, and she tenses, he’ll see that her ankles are no longer tied up. He pulls up the chair that she’s now facing, moving it as close as he can because he’s Joseph Seed and personal space is a concept he’s never heard of. The Father of Eden’s Gate sits down before her, close enough that their knees touch.

“I probably let that go on longer than I should have, I apologize. It can be hard not to let them indulge in their more childish impulses…after everything my family has gone through.”

One of his hands works into her hair, cupping the back of her skull and gently bringing their foreheads together.

“Yeah…”

“I’m sure you can understand that…thank you for staying.”

“You didn’t exactly give me much choice.”

Something between a chuckle and a huff of air reverberates in his chest, the sound rich and warm. She curses herself for the smile that tugs at her lips.

“You and I both know you’ve escaped far stronger binds… thank you for giving my family this night.”

“You do know that as soon as you go to help them, I’m gonna escape, right?” She meets his eyes, as difficult as it may be for here. He sighs and she can see concern darkening his eyes. Moments like these, she has to remind herself of the pain, the suffering he’s caused, otherwise…

“I know that you think the path you’re on is the righteous one, that you’re saving people. But, the time will come where you’ll see how misguided you truly are…”

“I-”

“And when that day comes, you will crumble and fall under the weight of just how many people you damned with your ignorance and sin. But, just like New Eden, something beautiful will emerge from your collapse.”

She clenches her jaw and Joseph stands up, hand still on her head as he gently kisses the top of her head. The soft compassion of it conflicting with the weight of his words. He starts to walk back to the kitchen to help with the dishes.

“You can’t ever just talk like a normal fuckin’ person, can you?!”


End file.
